


Mutually Beneficial

by managerie



Series: RINCH [22]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Canon Disabled Character, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, rinch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-09
Updated: 2015-05-05
Packaged: 2018-03-17 02:25:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3511748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/managerie/pseuds/managerie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harold needs to explain exactly what he gets out of time spent with John.</p><p>Takes place some time after <strong><em>Nautilus</em> </strong>but before <strong><em>The Cold War</em></strong></p><p> </p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Date Night

~ * ~

John was exhausted from another hard day of double duty. Being a cop and a agent stretched even his stamina too thin. The only thing John was looking forward to tonight was his date with Harold.

It would seem odd to outsiders for two people who have actually been together for nearly three years- married almost eighteen months now- to schedule a date with each other. John and Harold were not ordinary people.

Maintaining peace in the world, in the city, in their crew, and within their various aliases meant that more likely than not, John and Harold had no time in the day to be a couple. They were partners in The Mission, strangers on the streets, and comrades in arms while even alone in their Headquarters. Harold and John took their jobs seriously. No one wanted to be caught with their pants or defenses down should the Subway’s safe-house be breached.

In addition, the very idea of Shaw or Root interrupting even the most chaste romantic scene between them did not bear thinking. Harold would never touch John again, the embarrassment would be so complete.

Therefore, in a logical and sweetly romantic Finch way, they now scheduled dates in a dead zone for surveillance. As expected for a place no one willingly spent money on for cameras and patrolmen, the neighborhood was rough. However, Harold had purchased a building here decades ago. He anonymously owned the only decent apartment complex with round the clock security, ID badges for residents. and catering to low income families. Harold had said that ‘the poor were the hardest working and most disrespected faction of our world, they deserved to be given a level playing field at home at least.’

By level playing field Harold meant a gym, an enclosed courtyard and playground only the tenants could access, free child care, and after school classes. All of this was included in rent so low it felt like people had been transported to the 1950’s. The only amenities not provided by the best landlord in New York City were cameras or surveillance equipment. Only loyal humans who knew how good working for Falcon Industries was to ever betray the company, kept an eye on the building and surrounding neighborhood.

All visitors had to sign in and get a polaroid picture taken before they were allowed to enter the fortress. Minors and children had their pictures, fingerprints, and DNA in storage in case they ever came up missing. Two generations of kids had already graduated from college on special residence scholarships and moved their entire families to better parts of the country.

Yes, it was a great establishment to just blend in with the poor and downtrodden. No one knew Harold as anything other than another low renter; single and geeky. John was a familiar face these last three years, but as a cop. They didn’t know his last name, only Officer John to the kids. He would pretend to be on a call to help with a mugging or something official. No one questioned it. John would show up on a different floor to be seen by some passers-by, then slip away to the service elevator. This car had a special feature, it took you to the roof if you had a key.  On the roof was a small, but adequate apartment. It held books, a bed, a bathroom and a garden. This was their oasis from everything.

Shaw was commanded to leave John alone for all, but the most urgent emergencies on these occasions. Harold simply monitored in his multitasking way. That way only John was known to be incommunicado. No one would connect that John was with Harold.  A tiresome precaution, because neither Shaw nor Root really cared if they were together, but Harold was Harold and John loved him.

John entered his palmprint and the security code to open the virtual high-rise fortress. Once he came inside, he realized that something was wrong with Harold. Harold’s coat wasn’t hanging in the closet. No, it was lying on the chair with his vest and tie. Harold was neurotically neat. For him to strip like this meant only one thing to John; Harold had been in more pain than usual today. John tried to think of what activities might have tipped Harold over his superior pain threshold.  John figured it must be a combination of the wet and cold weather with sitting around a dank subway grading papers.

The lack of a good night’s sleep did not help either. Harold still averaged about four hours a night. Some days he stayed awake for forty-eight hours straight. Sleeping beside John was the only way for Harold to get a full night’s rest anymore. Which was another reason John tried to schedule a date night at least once a week, Numbers permitting.

The computer genius with a paranoid streak ten miles wide prefered to keep his wits about him at all time. Which meant Harold rarely took strong narcotics. Usually prescription grade naproxen along with vitamin supplements were his routine. Therefore, when Harold had a bad day he needed something to augment the other meds without knocking him out of the running. Harold would have taken his gabapentin to help with the pain.

John allowed himself a brief moment of self pity for his neglected libido. John did not let this dampen his mood too long though. Yes, that particular pill made in nearly impossible for Harold to get an erection thus preventing them from having sex tonight. However, being near Harold, being alone with the man he loved, being a comfort to the one person who connected John to the world was enough.

Besides, it wasn’t that the pill completely turned Harold off. It was just that Harold’s powerful mind was affected by the medication to the point where Harold wasn’t really aware of his body. No body awareness meant no sex drive. On the other hand, it meant that Harold would feel talkative and a little bit goofy. It wasn’t a good roll in the hay, but it was a pleasant evening getting to know his lover.


	2. Appetite for Destruction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coupledom in all its Glory

~ * ~

 

Softly, John ventured into the living quarters of the tiny apartment. Silently, he started supper in the microwave. Carefully, he tiptoed into the bedroom to find Harold with a heating pad under his hips and a cold compress over his eyes. The prone man did not stir, but instead said in a hushed voice,“Good evening, Mr. Reese. I will be with you in the kitchen shortly.”

John nodded to himself. Then since Harold couldn’t see him, John replied, “No rush. The meatloaf is in and the veggies are defrosting. No wine tonight?”

Harold smiled tiredly, “I think it is best to abstain from alcohol right now. But please don’t deny yourself a pleasure on my account.”

John gave a soft laugh as he deposited his suit and jacket to the closet. His undershirt and boxers would do for around the house. He would probably sleep this way then throw them in the hamper come morning. John slipped on some sweatpants anyway. Not for his own sense of propriety but because Harold would insist on proper attire at the table .

Needing to keep occupied lest he hover and satisfied that Harold was alright, John went to steam the veggies. A rather homey and traditional meal since the weather had been miserable all week. Microwave meatloaf with gravy as the main course. Steamed and butter green beans along with steamed potatoes. The potatoes would be seasoned, smashed, and buttered: skin and all. For dessert, John had two microwavable, single portioned peach cobblers with vanilla bean ice cream. Comfort food in the modern era to say the least.

Instead of wine, John was going to indulge in a single beer while he cooked. For the meal, they would have hot, black tea with lemon and honey. Warm and comforting were their watchwords tonight.

By the time Harold was standing in the kitchen blinking owlishly at his husband, John had finished half his ale and completed plating the dishes. Harold nodded to himself then began setting the table. Cloth napkins and table cover gave these occasions a more formal appearance, but also reminded them of their importance. This wasn’t a quick meal of take out over the keyboards while racing the clock. This was a cherished moment to be savored.

John asked Harold to sit noting the stiff and slow movements. Harold wasn’t quite up to sudden gestures yet. His color was improving so hopefully by the end of the meal he would be feeling better.

John placed the tray with all the tea accessories on the small table. While Harold poured them each a cup, sugar for Harold, John drained his beer, threw the bottle in the recycling, then gathered their dinner plates. Oddly, on these occasions Harold would take John’s hand and offer a simple prayer. John asked him about that a few years ago and Harold said, “A higher power can be anything. Whether that means Jehovah, Allah, or simply the indomitable spirit of man is up to each person. However, we as humans need a goal, a benchmark to keep us reaching for the stars instead of wallowing in the gutter.”

John approved. The idea of being accountable to something bigger than himself has always appealed to him. First to his parents, then the Army, then Jessica, then his country to finally end up feeling accountable to Harold’s personal standards. John had never met anyone who held themselves to such high ideals. Harold let everyone around him act like savages without so much as a raised eyebrow most of the time as long as they weren’t hurting themselves or others, while Harold forgave and accepted people regardless of their appalling behavior,

Harold himself was beyond reproach to anyone’s eyes except his own. Harold never forgave himself anything, which was why John had to work so hard to openly display his forgiveness to Harold. John had to make sure that everyone, including Finch saw that John did not blame Harold. It was a small consolation to the moral man, but it was all John could do.

Right now John was watching the little bird like movements of Harold’s fork to his mouth. Tiny bites that barely filled the utensil. Harold would carefully place the morsel in his crooked mouth and delicately chew every piece completely before swallowing then taking a sip of tea. Harold would look around like he was expecting a hawk to come and scoop him up then return to his plate for another bite, each time purposefully adding a little of potato, a bean, and the meat so he was getting a small bite of each.The ritual never ceased to amuse and endear.

John always took too long between meals. When he did sit down to eat, invariably John would become ravenous, shoveling the food into his mouth, making obscene moans if he was relaxed and felt safe. Quickly, his plate would be clean and he would feel obligated to wait for Harold to finish before getting them both another helping. This usually meant John had a lot of time to just watch Harold as if the older man was a show.

In the beginning, this unnerved Harold to the point where he flat out asked John what he was doing. John had been embarrassed, but declared that he enjoyed watching Harold do things with such grace and efficiency. Harold had blushed with a small smile that made it worth John’s dismay at being caught.

Today, Harold looked at John and gave an exhausted smile. John stood and kissed the top of Harold’s head. No point waiting to eat seconds since Harold could barely lift his fork. Waiting would just make Harold self conscious. John piled his plate high with more food and started the cobblers in the microwave. He also moved the ice cream to the fridge to soften it slightly.

John returned to the table and tried to eat at a civilized pace. He figured that talking might slow him down. “Finch? You need any refills or any over the counter meds tonight?”

Harold wiped his mouth with his napkin then took a cleansing drink of tea. John gathered the teapot, removing the cozy to pour Harold another cup.

Harold smiled his thanks then said, “No, why? I thought we were spending the night in or do you have some other plans?”

John replaced the warmer to the pot and shrugged with one shoulder, “No other plans just wanted to make sure you had everything. While you take a bath, I could make a run out if you needed something.”

Harold nodded, but his expression was slightly puzzled, as if he was trying to find the flaw in John’s logic. Finding none yet it seemed, Harold simply stated, “Well, my only need tonight is a bath together, then some much needed personal time with my husband in our neglected marriage bed.”

John grimaced, “Harold, you’re hurting. We don’t need to do anything special tonight. Maybe you can read until you fall asleep and I’ll just watch T.V.”

Harold went still and straightened up to his full height while sitting, “Well, I wouldn’t want to pressure you into sex. Of course, if you would rather I leave to the other room that could be arranged. Matter fact, I could leave completely and you can have the apartment to yourself.”

Harold made to stand in a huff and John quickly placed his hand on Harold’s lap to keep the indignant man in his seat. “No! I want to be with you, but I also don’t want to demand physical activities that might hurt you.”

Harold’s eyes narrowed at John.“I see. I am some hothouse orchid that must be pampered and never touched.”

John sighed, “That isn’t what I meant. Listen, when I get shot you aren't trying to jump my bones. You sense that I might not be up to a roll in the hay. I know you took your gabapentin. I don’t want you to get frustrated.”

Harold’s mouth pinched. “So, because I am no longer able to get an erection I am useless in our bed is that it?”

John groaned, “Harold.”

Harold stood and gestured to John to do the same, “Up.”

John again sighed, “What?”

Harold had his fists clenched on his hips like a disappointed housewife. “Get up. We will take a bath together and I will show you what I can do even in my delicate condition.”

John closed his eyes in defeat. Harold was angry and indignant, exactly what John had hoped to avoid. Now, Harold would go out of his way to prove he was able to keep up with this idea of John’s masculinity. Which was ridiculous. They were a team and didn’t compete. This evening was not going to end well.

 

 

 


	3. Conflict Resolution

~ * ~

Harold started undressing in fits and starts. Angry tugs and jerky movements. John walked over to him, placed his large, dangerous hands over Harold’s small competent ones. “If you are just trying to prove something to me then I would rather not. Our lovemaking shouldn't be about anything but enjoying each other.”

Harold deflated. He leaned his forehead against John’s stooped shoulders. “I can be an equal partner, I need to be an equal here.”

John stared at his lover in confusion. “Harold, if anyone should feel inferior in this relationship it should be me. You're the genius who saved my life. You’re wiser, kinder, and sin free.”

Harold shook his head, perhaps he was about to once again explain how unique and special John was. Reese didn’t want to hear it again. “I know I can't always help you. You usually won’t let me help. I understand your need for privacy and self sufficiency. But I want to help and you won’t let me. So, the only thing I can do is try not to hinder you.”

Harold cupped John’s face with a warm palm. “You think sex with you, pleasuring you would be a hindrance? That the only satisfaction I could possibly get from touching you is an orgasm?”

John’s eyes closed in shame because, yes that was exactly what he thought.

Harold guided them over to the bed. He propped himself up on the pillows then beckoned for John to settle in his arms. Given their near foot of height difference, it was always amusing that Harold liked to hold John this way. John of course, loved it, treasured the security and love inherent in the position. He climbed onto the mattress and snuggled into the embrace of the smaller man.

For several minutes they just breathed in the calm and soaked up the presence of the other. When the blaze of anger had left Harold completely, he spoke as if to a small child. Not patronizing, for Harold never treated anyone with disrespect. Harold spoke to children just as he spoke to adults. With children however, Harold spoke slower and with more genuine feeling so they could understand his emotions as well as his big vocabulary.

It was a soft voice that would rumble from his chest and breeze through John’s mind like background music. Never intrusive, never overbearing, but there to be noticed if one wants to listen.

Harold said, “I hope you know that I do not consider you an object to be owned but… why do you clean your guns?”

John paused briefly at the nonsequitur  then answered, “It keeps the guns in perfect working order, prevents jamming and rust.”

John could feel Harold nod then say, “So the only reason you cleaned that Glock 9 twice in one day is because it benefits the gun?”

John sat up to lean against the headboard and look Harold in the eye. “Well, no. I cleaned that gun a second time to have something to do with my hands. We had to wait in that warehouse for six hours hoping The Number would incriminate himself. You were busy monitoring things. I had nothing to do until the plan came together. Cleaning my guns also clears my head.”

Harold took John’s hands. “So, for you, cleaning your gun serves two purposes. One, keeping something that is important to you safe and happy. Two, providing you peace of mind. A zen like activity to help rejuvenate you?”

John sucked on his teeth not seeing the connection, but nodded.

Harold pulled John’s arm around his shoulders and nestled his spiky head against John’s chest. While playing with John’s open collar, Harold said into John’s collarbone. “Touching you, bringing you pleasure, being the focus of your attention and love, that for me brings peace of mind. I can concentrate on you instead of the four billion other things I am constantly bombarded with inside my head. I don’t have to wonder if I am doing anything right because of long practise and I know you will tell me. I don’t have to scheme or plan ten steps ahead. I can simply be in the moment. Be there, enjoying your pleasure. It is soothing and wonderful to finally be able to rest. To truly forget the world and focus on one thing at a time. I can zero in on you, your skin, your responses. I can forget The Machine, or Ms. Groves, or the Numbers. It’s just me making the man I love happy.”

John murmured, “So, for you I am your gun.”

Harold shrugged, “If by that you mean always by my side, always dependable, always protecting me and the people I care about then yes.”

John seized upon Harold, smashing their mouths together. John started undressing his little bird. Harold kept squeezing John’s buttocks. Finally, John had to pull off in order to get Harold’s pants off. They each started yanking on their own clothes. Soon John was completely nude and he finished getting Harold undressed.

They surged back together like magnets. They kissed forever. John sliding his hot, hard body against Harold’s bare and hairy one. The warmth and affection between them created a cocoon of love and devotion that surrounded them, keeping the outside world far away. Harold got his ears nibbled while John’s shoulders were caressed and worshiped.

John’s cock began to fill. The soft spongy balls crinkled closer to his body in arousal. Blood pooled in his groin giving urgency to each bite and stroke.

Harold sensed the change from foreplay to arousal which allowed him to start touching John around the waist and stomach. He did not touch the waiting phallus that was turning red. Instead, Harold traveled the planes of muscle along John’s lower back just above the swell of a tight ass. Harold’s hands never stopped, but his hips remain quiescent. The pill did not numb all the sensations, but it did limit arousal and mobility. Harold’s back and hips were not up to even the gentlest of thrusting. John would have to do most of the work below the belt as even Harold legs were stiff and aching.

Yet, Harold treasured any opportunity to touch John and bring him pleasure. It was a gift that the reclusive man never squandered. John’s skin pinked up as blood and oxygen coursed throughout his surging body. The blush only added to the natural glow the man produced. The heat between them was amazing and always surprised Harold. That such a specimen of virility, power, and perfection could be turned on by an old, mangled, and reclusive geek was startling to say the least. John’s responses to Harold’s body and presence had always been overwhelming, leaving no doubt about whether or not John was attracted physically as well as emotionally to Harold.

John pushed his hips down swiftly, grunting as his warm, solid cock scraped along Harold’s soft, furry belly. Harold realized that John was seeking more sensation in a very specific place. Harold gathered the oil from the bedside table, careless of the sheets. Who saw them, but each other?

Once both of his hands were well lubed, Harold double fisted John’s dick with a firm grip. Harold began to twist and stroke, glorying in the hard sinew that proved John’s ardour. Above him, John was moaning and panting. As John’s thrusting increased, Harold stopped moving his hands to instead hold them stable, creating a column of slippery, balmy skin for John to glide and stroke his length against. Occasionally, Harold would draw his palm over the now purpling head, smearing the precum around the glans and making John whimper needfully. It was a gratifying reaction.

John stabilized himself over Harold with both palms flat on the mattress near either side of Harold’s head. John’s legs supported his lower body in an erotic version of a push up. Instead of bending his arms, John would aggressively advance using his groin as a battering ram to fill Harold’s fists. Each pull back had every line, callous, and mark on Harold’s hands pressing into John’s sensitive flesh.

John bared his teeth in pleasure. His sweat dripped from his brow onto Harold’s chest. It was glorious watching John revel in his pleasure. Harold had a rare opportunity to experience all of John’s responses without Harold’s own arousal and need clouding the moment. Harold could soak in all the gasps and grunts, all the bliss and satisfaction that lit John’s handsome face. The love and warmth Harold felt being a part of this, being allowed to view this extraordinary man at his most vulnerable was almost a spiritual experience. Harold did not feel cheated by his body. As John climaxed messily all over him, Harold was grateful and very much smitten.

In the afterglow, they snuggled together, Harold unconcerned about the sticky mess. John kissed Harold’s forehead and asked, “You know I love you, right?”

“Of course.”

“I enjoy spending time with you no matter what we do. But these secret rendezvous lost their allure for me in my thirties. Could Professor Whistler and Detective Riley just come out as a couple?”

Harold stared at his lover for a full minute, every scenario and contingency swirling around his great mind. All the danger and risk swelled up only to be smothered by the longing and pleading in John’s eyes. Harold smiled and whispered “What could it hurt?”

John was overjoyed. He kissed and hugged Harold tightly. They fell asleep like that, both secure in the knowledge that they were loved.

 

~ * ~

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. I lost some steam. But I finished it !!!

**Author's Note:**

> Beta Read by Blue_Finch but comments, con-crit, and comma placement assistance are welcomed.  
> Author’s Notes: The medications and their effects mentioned in this fic are real and have been experienced by the author. However, side effects vary from person to person. Please do not use fanfiction as a means to self diagnosis.


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